Film Review: Bridge of Spies

Bridge of Spies. Rated M (mature themes, violence and coarse language). 141 minutes. Directed by Steven Spielberg. Screenplay by Matt Charman, Ethan Coen and Joel Coen.

It is 1957, the height of the Cold War between the Soviet Union and the United States of America. Increasingly desperate to learn of the other’s intentions, the great foes create vast espionage networks, resulting an atmosphere of absolute fear, paranoia and suspicion.

Based on a true story, Bridge of Spies begins with FBI agents arresting Soviet spy Rudolph Abel (Mark Rylance). Needing Abel to at least be seen to be getting a fair trial, the US government appoints easy-going insurance lawyer James Donovan (Tom Hanks) to represent him. Donovan is expected to simply go through the motions, but as he becomes more involved in the case, he seeks Abel’s acquittal, making him an enemy of the American people.

Meanwhile, in the skies over the Soviet Union, US Air Force pilot Francis Powers (Austin Stowell) is shot down and captured while he is flying a spying sortie, photographing the lie of the land. The CIA decides that Donovan is their man to travel to Germany and negotiate a prisoner exchange: Abel for Powers.

Production Designer Adam Stockhausen (The Grand Budapest Hotel, 12 Years a Slave) expertly recreates the classic look and feel of the 1950s, and the film’s striking authenticity is due to his vision, and the equally superb work of Spielberg’s frequent collaborator, Cinematographer Janusz Kaminski.

Strangely, for a film about some of the greatest threats to the survival of the human race, there is hardly a thrilling or dangerous moment to be had. Instead of being an edge-of-your-seat political thriller with so much at stake, Bridge of Spies coasts along on something like cinematic autopilot until, two hours and twenty minutes later, it ends precisely as you expect it to.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.

Film Review: The Walk

The Walk. Rated PG (Mild themes and coarse language). 123 minutes. Directed by Robert Zemeckis. Screenplay by Robert Zemeckis and Christopher Browne. Based on the book To Reach the Clouds by Philippe Petit.

At sunrise on 7 August 1974, 25-year-old French high-wire artist Philippe Petit stepped out onto his high-wire 400 metres above the ground – either end of which was attached to each of New York’s World Trade Center Twin Towers. For the next 45 minutes, Petit would walk backwards and forwards between the towers eight times.

We first meet Petit (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), perched next to the Statue of Liberty’s torch. Behind him, the towers dominate the skyline, something that made them incredibly unpopular with New Yorkers at the time of their construction. Today, seeing them again brings mixed emotions, particularly as their spectacularly brutalist presence dominates every element of the story.

Gordon-Levitt is sensational as the ambitious dreamer, determined to rise to the pinnacle of his death-defying artform. As the collaborators who will be able to bring the artistic and engineering aspects of his feat to reality, Ben Kingsley is in top form as Papa Rudy, a high-wire veteran who takes Petit under his wing, while Charlotte Le Bon is perfect as Annie, Petit’s girlfriend, who refuses to doubt that he will survive the attempt. But the winning support comes from César Domboy’s Jeff, a mathematician who rather unfortunately has a fear of heights. Once we arrive on the roof of the tower, it is Jeff who becomes our terrified touchstone.

Zemeckis (Flight, Cast Away, Forrest Gump) and cinematographer Dariusz Wolski (The Martian, Prometheus, Pirates of the Caribbean) have masterfully recreated Petit’s performance, and their seriously vertigo-inducing camera captures the action from every possible (and some seemingly impossible) angle. But the haunting final word of dialogue suggests that this film is intended to be as much a tribute to the majesty of the Twin Towers as it is to the incomprehensible fearlessness of Philippe Petit.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.

Film Review: Black Mass

Black Mass. Rated MA15+ (strong violence and coarse language). 122 minutes. Directed by Scott Cooper. Screenplay by Mark Mallouk and Jez Butterworth. Based on the book by Dick Lehr and Gerard O'Neill.

Based on the true story of ruthless Boston gangster James ‘Whitey’ Bulger (Johnny Depp) and his lifelong friendship with FBI agent John Connolly (Joel Edgerton), Black Mass is a terrifying descent into the world of the consequences of blind and unconditional loyalty. As Bulger snarls to one of his many unfortunate victims, ‘… of course you had a choice … you just made the wrong one.’ What is compelling about this moment, is that Bulger appears to be chastising himself for having done exactly the same thing – knowing there will be no winners.

Masterfully directed by Cooper (Crazy Heart), Black Mass takes place in a world ruled by fear, paranoia and suspicion, superbly established from the opening scene when Bulger’s accomplices are, one-by-one, telling investigators everything they know about his formidable rule of the city. Then, in flashback, we return to the many scenes of the crimes, within a slow boil to an endless, inescapable hell.

Depp’s performance as the tormented Bulger is devastating. Similarly to Charlize Theron’s Aileen Wuornos in Monster (2003), Depp immerses himself entirely into the role, and while his popularity never lets you forget it is Johnny Depp, the emotional and psychological depths to which the actor reaches are astounding.

Within a superb ensemble, Edgerton is outstanding as the brittle, opportunistic special agent who uses his friendship with Bulger to obtain information about the Mafia who rule the city, while conveniently turning a blind eye to his friend’s increasingly megalomaniacal criminal activities.

The growling score by Tom Holkenborg (Mad Max: Fury Road) is as deeply unsettling and relentless as the story, provoking the action to its inevitable conclusion. Be warned. Black Mass is a light and laughter-free zone, and its hold on your increasingly frayed nerves will be complete.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.

Film Review: The Martian

The Martian. Rated M (survival themes and coarse language). 141 minutes. Directed by Ridley Scott. Screenplay by Drew Goddard. Based on the novel by Andy Weir.

When their Mars mission is hit by a ferocious storm, commander Lewis (Jessica Chastain) makes the decision that the crew leave the planet’s surface and return to the relative safety of their spacecraft, the Hermes. But when the violent windstorm slams a piece of equipment into astronaut Mark Watney (Matt Damon), he becomes separated from the rest of the crew, and electronic signals from his space suit indicate that he has not survived the impact.

Commander Lewis reluctantly makes the decision to leave Watney behind, only to later learn that he has survived and that NASA is preparing a rescue mission. All Watney has to do is work out how to survive alone on the planet for the four years it will take the rescue mission to reach him.

At a running time of two hours and twenty-one minutes, it’s not that hard to know precisely how he feels. Apart from the opening storm sequence, The Martian feels more like an extra special episode of ‘Better Homes and Gardens’, as Watney potters about tending his crop of potatoes, making and repairing things, while recording entertaining entries into the mission’s video log about how ingenious, funny and resilient he is.

Back on Earth, things are equally ordinary, as a terrifically miscast Jeff Daniels plays Teddy Sanders, the Director of NASA, as something like an incredibly bored school principal. What is impressive, in spite of the ordinary performances, is the extent of ground-breaking technological and scientific innovation that figures prominently in the story, both at NASA, in outer space, and on Mars.

But for all that’s a stake, The Martian is a strangely drama- and atmosphere-free zone.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.